


Hey It’s 1 a.m. Do You Still Like Me?

by Wolfermann



Category: Reservoir Dogs (1992)
Genre: Fluff and Angst, Freddy is unfortunately a cop, M/M, drunk phonecalls, happy ending implied
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-21
Updated: 2020-06-21
Packaged: 2021-03-04 10:21:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 799
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24848227
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wolfermann/pseuds/Wolfermann
Summary: The pressure is building and Freddy realizes that he’s completely and totally screwed. Mister White is the only thing keeping him together with only twenty-four hours left until the diamond heist is set to take place.Prompt: drunk, at the end of your rope
Relationships: Mr. Orange/Mr. White (Reservoir Dogs)
Comments: 7
Kudos: 32





	Hey It’s 1 a.m. Do You Still Like Me?

“Hey, uh Mister White. Will you come over, man? I could really use you right now.” Freddy gripped his phone like it was his lifeline, fingers tangled in the cord as he tried to sound as coherent as possible. His stomach churned as he waited for the answer on the line and the older crook was taking his sweet time.

There was only twenty four hours left until Joe Cabot’s diamond heist and he felt himself starting to crack. The job was simple; pose as a scumbag, gain the mobster’s trust, lead the whole team to the diamond shop with the LAPD waiting eagerly to grab the would be thieves, and then book Cabot and son too for aiding in the attempted robbery. If things got out of hand, there would be people waiting at the checkpoint. But there was one big- no fucking  **massive** problem; Freddy got attached.

White was the one who took to him immediately and in turn Freddy to him. Cabot established clear rules about how they were supposed to behave when partnered up together and the older man had made sure to break almost everyone of them except for his name, though it seemed to always be just on the tip of his tongue. Holdaway had called him sloppy and bad at his job but Freddy refused to comment because the little pieces of Mister White’s life slipped out when they were pressed together. For a man who talked about removing fingers to get what he wanted, White was surprisingly tender with him. Orange, as he had to refer to himself as, shivered, remembering the older man’s lips pressed to the base of his neck just a few hours ago. His departing gift after dropping the younger man off at his apartment after a long day of watching the shop and getting whatever food White recommended. He seemed to know every tiny shop in LA with an amazing menu. He trusted him fully and yet here he was, plotting his doom.

“It’s one in the fucking morning, kid.” White finally responded, sounding exasperated. Freddy white knuckled the phone, beginning to pace as far as the cord allowed while he tried to not sound so fucking drunk. The empty case of beer sat as evidence on his dining table.

“H-hey look- shit I’m sorry, if I woke you up. I didn’t mean to I’m just.. I don’t know if I can do this, man.” Orange cringed at his own voice, was he really begging a criminal for attention? He wanted to know White’s name so bad. It felt so shitty to only refer to him by a color even if it was one of the best dealt out by Joe. He wanted it so bad he was seconds away from tearing into the folders Holdaway had given him to properly identify White but he couldn’t bring himself to do it. It felt so  wrong to find out about him that way.

_Oh god I fucking love him... I love him so much..._

Freddy’s stomach heaved violently as reality set in. His knees felt like they were going to give out.

_I fucked up, oh please White I’m sorry, I’m so fucking sorry.._

“Hey!” White’s sharp bark brought him back from the brink of a nervous breakdown. “You’re a tough guy, you’re gonna do just fine, say it with me ‘I’m gonna be fine.’” Freddy blinked as the older man tried to sooth him. His brain swirled trying to form the words before he really pissed off his partner.

“I’m going to be fine.” He mumbled, slumping up against the kitchen wall as he tried to keep it together but it felt like he was trying to patch up a boat that was already sinking.

“There you go, tough guy.” White crooned to him softly. Freddy could hear the smile at the other end of the line which made his heart lurch in his chest. “You’ll be okay and I’ll be over there in fifteen,  baby .” Fifteen?? He only had to hold it together for fifteen more minutes and everything would be okay. And he practically melted at the name.  _Oh the name..._

“T-Thanks, Mister White. The doors open, just come on up.” He knew the drill, after all Freddy had been letting him into his apartment for the past week for some afterwork “bonding”.

“My pleasure, kid. Keep your chin up, okay? For me.” White could have asked him anything and he would have agreed to it. The phone clicked as the older man hung up his motel room phone leaving the dial tone blaring in his ear. Freddy could hold on. He could make it. He was fucking cool, he was Mister _fucking_ Orange and oh he was so incredibly weak for Mister White. 


End file.
